


Strong

by SenkoWakimarin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkoWakimarin/pseuds/SenkoWakimarin
Summary: Junkrat really likes how strong Roadhog is.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tsuncoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuncoon/gifts).



> Based off a really great head canon I saw on tumblr about Junkrat having a Thing for Roadhog's overall strength.

There was something about the sheer strength Hog embodied that made Jamison randier than he could remember ever being. It wasn’t even something the bigger man tried to do, that was the worst of it; the big bastard had no idea how damn attractive he was.

Junkrat might say, “Oi Hog, lift this,” or “Hoggy, pick that up, huh?” and no matter what it was, no matter how arbitrary the reason for asking, Roadhog just _did it_ , lifting his own motorcycle with no more than a little grunt of effort. He was insanely strong and barely seemed to care about the challenge of lifting even the heaviest of things.

Roadhog could lift Junkrat _and his rip tire_ as easily as he could anything else. Rat might look small next to his beefy bodyguard, but he was a fairly big lad himself, lean but hard all over with muscle, plus the weight of his prosthetics. Add to that the weight of the tire, and you weren’t talking about featherweights by any means.

To Hog though, he was small enough to be used as resistance in the other man’s exercise. Sitting on Hog’s back while the big guy did pushups was a particularly favoured treat, getting to feel the strain and bunch of Hog’s back as he moved, up and down in a steady rhythm, not bothered at all by Rat’s presence.

Being that close to Hog was always a treat, especially when the larger man smelled like sweat and grime and a hard afternoon’s work. It was a heavy, heady smell, one Roadhog was quick to wash away if there was a chance to but that Rat loved. It was honest, that smell; human. Real.

All he had to do was _think_ about it and his motor was going, fully revved and raring to go. The smell, the movement of Hog’s body. The bunch of muscle, the jiggle of his belly when he heaved upwards; that little groan when he finally set whatever he’d lifted back on the ground. Every single part of it was delicious to Rat, enough that he didn’t need anything more to get himself off. It could, in fact, be problematic when they were in public or busy during a heist; Hog hefting some huge piece of scrap out of their way and _bam_ , suddenly all Jamie wanted was to jump the older man’s bones and ride him into the next week.

Never mind that they had an escape to get through, oh no, he wanted it _now_.

Fortunately for them both, Hog had far better self-control. Roadhog can at least get them back to someplace safe before giving in to baser desires.

Just one more thing for Junkrat to appreciate about the larger man, really. What a good head he has on his shoulders, how smart he is under the gruff and growlsome exterior he paints on in public. He’s a man of many talents, is Hog, and Rat trusts him completely.

And wants him completely.

There have been other men, other lusts, but there’s never been a man for him like Hog, and he can’t help swooning a little sometimes, because he’s just so damn lucky.

He likes it when he finds Hog lifting weights, laid out all pretty on a bench and pressing those huge, heavy bars. Sweat beads on his skin, running over his forehead and down his shoulders, not because the weight is too much but because he’s been at it for so long. Watching him puts nothing but smut in Rat’s head, the kind that just has to be shared, and he figures Hog must not mind too much or else he wouldn’t let him do this.

Wouldn’t let him strip right there, crossing the room buck-ass nude so he can better feel the bunch and coil of Roadhog’s thighs as the larger man gets comfortable with the weight in his lap, never missing a beat in his lifting. Wouldn’t let him snap open his trousers and fish out a cock that was already starting to harden, the better to stroke it to full, throbbing life in his hands.

Roadhog doesn’t utter a word of complaint, but Rat can feel him watching him, eyes on his face or maybe his hands as he works the older man up.

Leaning back, legs spread in an obvious display, he works himself over as well, getting himself nice and open for the larger man before lifting himself up, carefully balanced, and then lowers himself onto that thick cock. Roadhog moans for him then, arms shaking just the slightest bit, but soon enough he’s quiet, focusing on breathing while Junkrat bounces on him, making enough noise for them both.

“God yer perfect, Hoggy,” he babbles, lifting as high as he can and then dropping, slow and sensuous. “Lookit how strong you are, hhng, how bloody big, _god_ yeah yer good…”

His babbling is damn near constant, unstoppable even if he’d wanted to be quiet; he braces both hands against the curve of Hog’s belly and tries to keep his motions draw out and languid, just to torment the other man a little. To see if he’ll stop what he’s doing to fuck Rat proper. He doesn’t know if that would be a loss of a gain on his end; He loves when Hog takes charge and really rails him, but there’s something beautiful about pinning him like this, watching his arms tighten as he continues pumping the barbell.

Conflictingly, he wants _both_ , wants Hog to drop everything and fuck him, and wants him to keep lifting and let him ride forever.

Of course, there is no forever and Hog has infinitely more patience; before long Rat is riding his bodyguard hard and fast, his words coming out in broken moans as he fights to keep some semblance of a steady pace. Soon, too soon, they both come, and Rat can do nothing but collapse forward onto Hog’s belly, flesh fingers reaching up and toying with the larger man’s nipple ring.

It’s only then that Hog puts up the barbell, running one heavy hand down Rat’s back, stroking him like a cat. Rat all but purrs at the touch, leaning into it with a little groan. “Y’ really are th’ best, mate,” he breathes, sighing softly in exhaustion.

Hog only laughs a little, fingers combing through Rat’s sparse hair as if to say, _then what are you_?


End file.
